Riddles
by SensibleNonsense
Summary: It's one of Professor Stein’s hobbies to tell riddles to his students that he knows they’ll never be able to solve. But the answer is always standing right in front of you, isn't it...? SxM
1. The Riddle

AN: Check my homepage for updates, news (including why it's been such a long wait between now and the last chapters of Metamorphosis), and extra little tidbits about my stories—songs that I listened to, where I got the idea, etc. Thank you all for your continued interest and support thus far--you guys are what keep me posting! :) Lotsa, love.

Disclaimer: _Soul Eater _isn't mine or yours. Pity, that.

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**One - The Riddle**

It is one of Professor Stein's hobbies to tell riddles to his students that he knows they'll never be able to solve. He likes to think of it as an experiment—see who will pick up the challenge and keep searching—but that's his general cover story for anything that might resemble any sort of affection for another human being.

It isn't a surprise, of course, who takes up that challenge; Maka Albarn never was the kind of kid who let others go before her. And that puts Soul in the line of fire as well, because everything is practice in partnership.

"This is stupid. What a waste of time," Soul grumbles, leaning (coolly) against Stein's desk after school. He glares at his partner, the instigator of all their painful educational adventures.

"I don't see why you're complaining," she sniffs disdainfully. "You need all the extra credit you can get."

Before the heads start to roll, Stein cuts in. "I think you'll find this exercise well worth your time, Soul," he says in his bemused way. "It concerns, after all, the realization of what you most desire. Your mother used it, Maka."

Both children's breath catches in their throat, making a little sound of surprise. Neither speaks it—it seems unnecessary.

_To become stronger._

"But as with most things this powerful, it has the potential to destroy everything that you ever worked to gain from Shibusen and yourselves," the Professor warns, without the usual tone of casual indifference. "No second chances on this one."

"Now," he says, blowing out a thin stream of smoke "Would you like to hear your riddle?"

The two stand close to one another, shoulders almost touching, yet still unspeaking--staring motionlessly at the man before them.

The professor cracks a smile. "I thought you might."

~*~

**THE RIDDLE**

"_The key to life and death is everywhere to be found,_

_But if you do not find I in your own house,_

_You will find it nowhere. _

_Yet it is before everyone's eyes;_

_No one can live without it;_

_Everyone has used it…_

_Children play with it in the streets._

_The meek and uneducated esteem it highly,_

_But the privileged and learned often throw it away._

What is it?"

* * *

AN: I claim no rights to the riddle above. It was written by Nicolas Flamel, a well-known alchemist in the 15th century who sought a way to create the Philosopher's Stone, an object of unbelievable powers. (Not just a story by J.K. Rowling, kids! Now if we could only do something about Hogwarts…) Its full text, in various renditions, can be found easily on the web.

Fluff is soon to follow.

Would enjoy your feedback! :)


	2. Clues

**Two – Clues**

**AN:** Wow! Thanks for the response, guys. :) It's pretty adorable to see all your guesses at the riddle—it'd never occurred to me that that might happen, and I'm liking it. (Reader participation, ftw.) This is probably the fastest update you're gonna get, by the way. XD;; I blame it largely upon great music and my personal discovery of frappachinos. It was a bit of a religious experience.

**Disclaimer:** Nope.

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For the first few days, they searched like mad, pouring over every thick, dusty tome they could get their hands on and sleeping in shifts. It was the most hours Soul had logged at a library in whole life, and still they were getting nowhere.

By the end of the week , things had returned to a more normal state for the two, with Maka brooding over the problem and Soul generally ignoring it. (Maka was better at this kind of thing anyway.)

"The answer has to be something simple," she kept saying, pacing back and forth across the small floor of their living room, blocking Soul's view of the television screen with each pass. "Riddles are always so literal."

"Riddles aren't cool," Soul mutters, giving up on the television and flipping through the pages of an old motorcycle magazine.

By the end of the month, they're at each others throats. Soul draws the short end of the stick and goes to ask Stein for a clue. Maka doesn't need to wait until he returns to hear the verdict; she can hear Stein laughing from the other side of the classroom door.

It was in this way the pair found themselves in front of the bathroom mirror, writing numbers on the fogged surface.

"He's practically a teacher—he's not going to tell us the answer! Besides, we're supposed to figure it out on our own—that's the _point!"_

"And it would be nice if I were a Death Scythe before I'm fifty! And I know how much you respect teachers, but he's a _god, _Maka. Do you even know how much freaking veto power—"

"Oh—Soul and Maka calling from their bathroom," Shinigami-sama singsongs, hoping towards the screen. "How nice! Though it's a good thing Spirit's not here…"

"Papa can go to hell," Maka mutters, her look of disgust mirrored on her partners face who grumbles something largely indiscernible in which only the phrase "tiny tits" can be heard.

"Quite," says Shinigami-sama, noncommittally. "Now, did I hear something about a riddle?"

Neither speaks for a moment. Soul elbows Maka impatiently. She nearly punches him in the face.

"Yes, actually…"

~*~

"…So could you at least give us a clue?" Maka finishes, despairingly. She glances over at her partner, whose teeth are clenched but otherwise shows no signs of caring. Typical.

"…"

"Shinigami-sa—?"

"No."

"WHAT?!" Soul explodes.

"But I can give you another riddle."

"You people can TAKE your riddles and shove them right up your—"

"What belongs to you," the death god bulldozers on, shutting Soul up. "But others use it more than you do?"

Soul doesn't miss a beat. "Probably my socks. Maka—"

"It's 'your name,' you idiot," Maka snarls, her hand sneaking towards her book bag.

"Very good, Maka," Shinigami-sama grants giddily. "And who is that person?"

"…Soul."

For once Soul doesn't have a smart response. The two share a glance, feeling now as though they're treading on very fragile ground.

"Shinigami-sama," Maka begins carefully. "Is there one more riddle you'd like to tell us?"

The death god cocks his head to the side playfully. "Certainly. What is it you can keep after giving it to someone else?"

"Your word," Soul answers after a moment.

"It's about our partnership," Maka whispers, as if to herself. As a knee-jerk reaction, she turns to the boy standing next to her. She finds his expression perfectly mirroring her own. His eyes bore unflinchingly back at her, and she isn't quite sure why, but a blush rises to her cheeks and she looks away.

"Yes, you're getting it now," Shinigami-sama says in a quieter voice, head tilting playfully to the side. "And there's one more if you'd like to hear it...

"Remember the dark,

Remember the light,

Remember the past

To grant foresight."

Shinigami-sama's image fades from the surface, leaving only the reflection of a boy and a girl.

"The…dark?"

* * *

**AN:** Gawds. Shinigami-sama's voice is so difficult to try to capture!—especially in English. However, narrating Soul and Maka arguments is fun. XD Oh, and to avoid conclusion, the answer to "THE" riddle is not any of things discussed in this chapter; these are just clues. Also, I did a more rushed job of editing this time--if there are any bothersome mistakes, just give a shout so I can fix them.

**Disclaimer** (Why did I make two?): the first two riddles are traditional, so I claim no ownership to them.

**Claimer:** The third, however, is my own—ownership claimed…Along with the rest of the story, I suppose. (So there.)

Remember to check my homepage for progress, updates, etc. And, as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on things so far. :)


	3. Into the Dark

**Three—Into the Dark**

**AN**: I've basically decided to crank out this story without stop due to two reasons. One: you guys have been amazing in your response—I never expected this story to get as much attention as it has in such a short time period. But I'm afraid I might disappoint Ancient Spirit. Sorry, mate… XD Two: The most recent chapter of the manga (chapter 69, I think), which has galvanized me into action like nothing else could. Nuh-uh. Nuh-_UH_. No one messes with my favorite pairing and gets away with it. (Even if you are Atsushi Ookubo, Possible God.)

**Disclaimer**: I may not be held liable for my actions if the mangaka of _Soul Eater_ crushes my dreams. I will plead insanity. Also, I don't own it.

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**…**

**…Taut**

He'd made her a promise. He'd felt her hand tremble on his should as she spoke brave words, and they'd swayed back and forth to the off-beat music. "I promise" seemed easy to say in comparison.

That same hand reaches for him now, struggling up from the depths of the dense, mauve-colored waters. It's hell just breaking his fingertips through. Every muscle in his body is would taut as piano strings and she's still a thousand miles away.

He's weak. He's losing her. He's reaching.

He's reaching.

**…**

**…Feign**

The plan flashed into his head so quickly, he didn't have time to consider its repercussions. (Just one of the drawbacks of life-or-death situations.) All he knows is that it will give them a moment's advantage over the witch Blair. He didn't calculate Maka's reaction. How her face would fall, the light flicker out of her eyes.

As if he'd stabbed her.

She's doubled over, screaming until her voice breaks in half. _Cheating bastard. All men. Hate you. _And it ain't cool, but he can't quite seem to open his mouth and say the words that will bring them out of this—that will make them win.

Doesn't she know he's feigning?

**…**

**…Fade**

She's seen him fall a thousand times. Bones broken, body twisted, blood pooling. And she's heard him scream just as many. And each time, she can't stop the panicked shriek that skitters out her closing throat in answer. It's not something she'll ever really get used to.

She's seen him fall a million times—for _her_ failings, _her_ falterings. And each time the battle around her fades, focusing like a beacon on the crumpled figure of this selfless, stubborn, _idiot_ boy who's promised to give his life for hers—and might just have done it.

**…**

**…Whisper**

Sometimes, alone and drifting in the black waters of insanity, the imp will manifest itself only as a voice, crackling like an old vinyl record in Soul's mind. He can feel its hit breath in his ear; hear the wet sound as its lips spread across its teeth in a hungry grin.

And sometimes in that darkness, he thinks he can hear Maka calling for him—screaming. But she's so far away, and the imp so near that her voice becomes the whisper and the imp's a scream.

There are times he's not even sure if he's heard her at all.

**…**

**…Never**

She'd made a pact with herself never to trust men; it was the most important lesson her mother ever taught her.

But Soul is different, isn't he? He knows what it's like not to trust. He works pound for pound alongside her, trying to become stronger together. He pulls her up when they've been beaten down, throws his own body in front of hers when neither of them can move. He's her best friend—her partner.

He's _Soul._

And yet there are times when she notices the changes. How she has to look up to meet his eyes these days. How he listens to Spirit's pleas even after she's stormed away. The way he looks at Blair.

It's what drives her faster and faster to make him a Death Scythe—to achieve what they've sworn to each other. Because she wants to be as far away as she can the day Soul Eater becomes a man.

**…**

**.**

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**AN**: As always, responses welcome.


	4. Answer

**Four – Answer**

**AN**: Sorry for the pause between updates—I really didn't mean for a week to pass inbetween. It's finals next week in school, and I'm trying to wrap up loose ends, as well as just dealing with some ugly stuff in my personal life. Reality, eh? Whattcha gonna do… :) Hope you enjoy the chapter.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned it, would I publish it on a fan fiction site? You tell me.

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"Stein!"

Maka and Soul burst into the empty classroom where their teacher sits fiddling with a tray of dissection tools. They rush up and slam their hands down on his desk in unison, faces contorted with frustration and barely-suppressed rage.

"Oi, look here, old man," Soul roars, jabbing his finger in his professor's face. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing at, but it ain't cool!"

"We've been searching and _re_searching nonstop, but we're farther away from figuring it out than we ever were before. We need to know what it is—we're failing on our own!" She throws a glare at her partner.

Stein stares at them blankly for a moment. "What are you two talking about?"

"Awww, the damn _riddle!_" Soul hollers, throwing his head back and pulling at his hair in frustration. "What the hell else?!"

The professor leans back in his long-enduring rolly chair. The lens of his glasses flash at the pair in removed amusement.

"Oooh, that. You took that seriously? I was just messing with you…"

They stare at him wordlessly, mouths open.

"I wonder if this susceptibility is a recurring result," Stein continues musingly. "Perhaps I should conduct a few more experiments…"

"No!" Maka explodes, tears pooling in her eyes. "What was the _answer?_"

Stein pauses a moment, thinking. "There is no answer," he says finally. "It's an unsolvable riddle. It's not even a riddle actually—it was written by the alchemist Nicolas Flamel when he—"

Maka turns on her heal and runs out the door. Soul stays a moment, staring at the scientist. He shakes his head—"You're really are a sick bastard, you know that?"—and leaves.

The door slams and the man is left alone in the big room. He takes a drag on his cigarette and lifts his hand to the giant screw on the side of his head, turning the grinding gears until they click into position. Slowly, a smile spreads itself across his face. He chuckles to himself a bit.

"Very good, Soul, Maka. Very good."

~*~

"Maka? Maka. There you are. I've been looking for you for hours. You could have made yourself easier to find," Soul grumbles, sitting down by his partner on the hill overlooking the city.

"Go away," she mumbles, head buried in the dark nook made by her arms and knees.

"Like hell," Soul says, leaning back. "This isn't just about you, you know."

"I know it's not," she snaps, lifting her head to glare at him with red-rimmed eyes.

Soul softens. "Look, we've been through worse. We'll figure this out somehow."

"There's nothing _to_ figure out," Maka mumbles. "Stein said—"

"I don't give a damn what Stein said," Soul spouts flippantly. "Remember what Shinigami-sama told us? He said something about remembering the good things that have happened, too."

"'Remember the light to grant foresight,'" Maka quotes.

"Yeah, that. So we only did half of what he told us, didn't we?—maybe we should try doing that."

Maka settles her chin on her folded arms and gazes out across the city. The sun sinks towards the horizon, struggling to stay awake and casting the houses and hills and desert beyond in a deep orange glow.

"The light, huh?..."

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**AN**: I made a new word. It's called 'gaxes'. It's like 'gazes,' only better. (TYPING FAIL.)

I'm really psyched to get the next chapter out. We're on the home stretch! :) And remember, I'd love to hear from you guys. And whilst I'm very flattered by the "moar plz"s, it's always fun to hear stuff about the story as well!! ^^ Thanks for all your support, you guys.


	5. Into the Light

**Five – Into the Light**

**AN**: I'm eating expired chocolate right now. So if I end up never finishing chapter six 'cause I died, you'll know what's up. Anyway, don't give up on the riddle yet—the story is not yet over! :) It may be a bit longer—about a week?—before I have time to finish the last chapter. I hope this fluff will tide you over until then! Enjoy.

**Disclaimer**: I wish.

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_"But I know I must remember who I am_

_And what it took to realize_

_I can't win this alone._

_Fairest of fair, linger there_

_Oh, when will I sleep tonight?"_

--The Lonely Forest

**...**

**…**

**…Always**

Neither of them is particularly good with words, so it's not really a surprise that when anything mildly resembling a moral or emotional struggle arises, they're the first to vacate.

Even though they tease, they have enough respect for each other to believe that they can fight their own battles. But they're never really far enough away that, if one of them falls, they can't catch them.

It's one of the reasons their partnership works so well.

**…**

**…Flutter**

The remarkable thing about Soul Eater is that he never goes back on his word. Maybe it's because she's never had much faith in promises, but there's something disproportionately moving in that first time he guarded her in human, with only a few words and a world of determination as his shield against a man they're both dead afraid of. It's something she can express to him later only in the words "thank you."

The shockwaves of electricity run through her body, making her limbs flutter like a broken bird. And hell is he going to let this happen to her again. He'll die first; she's his meister. But more importantly, she's Maka.

**…**

**…Rise**

It's hell getting back up after being knocked to the ground so many times. Broken tissues and snapped muscles scream for her to stay down. But the enemy is heading in for the kill, and she's searching deep in her reservoirs of courage for the strength to rise again—just this one last time.

The unnatural metal of the demon scythe is warm beneath her hand; she feels his adrenaline heartbeat in her palm.

And that is strength enough.

She slams the butt of the staff into the cracked flagstones and, with bones quaking, drags herself up to face hell head-on.

**…**

**…Kiss**

It's one of those rare moments when Maka's let her guard down for a moment. It's not for any particular reason—they'd gone to the beach with their classmates, they were in an good place in their missions. Everything is just…alright.

He always enjoys theses rare moods, when she laughs more and acts her age—like a real teenager. It's cool.

He'll give her a piggyback ride home because she's won the race, not because she's been knocked unconscious. He'll tease her not because they're fighting but because he's happy. And—out of the blue—he'll lean down and kiss the crown of her head, not because he's afraid she's dying, but because they're both alive.

**…**

**…Dawn**

Dawn always seems to come, no matter how dark the night has been.

The first tendrils of light sneak through the quiet infirmary. He's curved around her, drooling slightly on the pillow in an unattractive but amusing way. Constellations of scars spread across his chest, lit by the soft morning light. The long old scar stretching from shoulder to hip seems faded amongst fresh cuts and bruises.

She can't remember who snuck into whose bed first, nor at what time during the too-short, too-long night. One of them will probably sneak back before Nygus makes the rounds. But just now, she muses, snuggling down into the clean, soft sheets, it's as if their little world has paused in its spiraling to catch its breath.

She presses her forehead to the little dip at the base of his throat, breathing in the moment before dawn wakes him too.

**…**

**…**

**.**

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**AN**: This was probably my favourite chapter of this story...But I'm not loving it as much any more after rereading some of my previous fanfiction, into which I put a lot more care, planning, and attention to detail. Gah. I miss summer...and, you know, self-motivation. Kinda ironic how school sucks that out of you. ^^;

Comments, critiques, and reviews always welcomed. :)


	6. What You Make It

**Chapter 6 – What You Make It**

**AN:** Final chapter! Thanks for all your enthusiasm and support along the way, guys—it means a pathetically large amount to me. :) And I'm way psyched to have finished a chaptered story. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** Don't we all wish?

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_"There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning."_ –Louis L'Amour

* * *

Maka blinks, slowly returning to the present where the sun has set and the moon risen, peeking out at the city between cloud-breaks. On the hill above it all, fireflies duck near and close, flickering in and out lazily.

Maka smiles, more at peace with herself than she's been in a long time. Across from her, Soul lies in the grass, arms crossed beneath his head. He scowls up into the starless sky, reaching out a hand to snatch at the fireflies that drift close to him.

The grass stirs in the wake of a faint wind. Neither so much as looks at the other.

~*~

"Hey, Stein, what's this I hear about you bullying my Maka?" Spirit Albarn gripes darkly, slouching into the room and sticking his face in front of his old friend's.

Stein sighs, leaning back in his chair and lighting a cigarette, abandoning thoroughly now the idea of getting any work done tonight. "For such a big place, Shibusen's grapevine is pretty small if it's reached you already," he comments dryly.

"Of course I'd know quickly when my Maka is upset!" Spirit rages. "I am her Papa, and Papas know these kinds of things instinctively, Stein—_instinctively!_"

Steins steps carefully around that minefield, saying instead, "I told Maka and Soul a riddle, and they couldn't figure it out—or rather, just didn't like the answer."

"A riddle?" Spirit relaxes, raising an eyebrow skeptically. Stein relays it to the mystified father.

"But the answer's obvious, isn't it?" Spirit puzzles, more confused than before. "It's…'love', isn't it?"

"Ah, that's just the thing," Stein says, sending a stream of smoke twining towards the high ceiling. "There isn't a single answer to that riddle—not a _single_ answer. The answer that you give tells more about who you are and where you intend to go than anything else.

"I told them that the answer to that riddle would reveal a very powerful secret that could make them stronger than they could ever dream. And I suspect that it will do just that once they understand it for what it really is. But they were going about it all wrong at the beginning…"

"I don't understand," admits Spirit frankly.

"No, you never did…But I think _they _will…"

…

Away on the hillside, Soul breaks the silence. "Blair will be wondering where we are."

"Mmm," Maka agrees, and this time she understands that he means simply that—that he means their cat is getting hungry. No double meanings, no secret message.

Soul picks himself up from the soft grass, waiting until Maka has risen and joined him to start down the hill. A little cloud of fireflies follows in their wake.

"_How long do you think it will take them to figure it out?" Spirit asks back in the room._

"_Not long, I should think," Stein replies, untroubled. "But I wouldn't expect to know for a while. It will be a very subtle change—on the surface, at least…"_

They never really were the kind for confessions.

They walk home that night through the quiet grounds and city streets without speaking. Each is intent on their own thoughts, but are far from being lost in them.

"_And what do you think their answer will be?" Spirit asks._

They walk close together, shoulders touching with each step as naturally as two trees brushing together in the wind.

_Stein grins crookedly. "Well, riddles are always quite literal, aren't they? But as far as it concerns you, Senpai, you may want to know this…"_

Maka slips her hand into his, and Soul's fingers close around it, calluses meeting calluses –no glove in between to stop the spread of warmth.

"_What fastens two people together but touches only one?"_

* * *

The End.

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**AN:** Comments, reviews, and closing thoughts would be much enjoyed. I'll post the answer to this last riddle on my homepage if you really want to know it.


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